Maybe He Didn't Hear You Yell Super Loud At Him
by KagomeMiroku
Summary: No, he wasn't considering Francis!


Was it weird that Arthur found him..._pretty_?

What a strange adjective to use for a man, for your enemy nonetheless. But Francis was, indeed, a pretty man. His hair was curled and past his stubble chin, his eyes were sparkling blue pools, and his French accent was simply to die for.

Only, Arthur viciously hated that man with a burning passion. Or so he liked to tell himself. He would never succumb to dating Francis. Hell, he didn't need any partner anyway, he was the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland for crying out loud! He did fairly well on his own. Plus, he knew better than to trust- Everyone he ever grew to love left him in the end (Although it was true he gave Peter and Bruce away for his own reasons).

He bloody well knew the Frenchman wouldn't be the one person to stick around with him. Not as though he was honestly even considering Francis an option. No, no, of course not.

"Wine bastard," he muttered, staring across the conference table at him. "Annoys me something chronic, he does."

"Aha, Iggy!" Alfred clasped a hand to the Briton's back. "Have anything to add?"

Arthur blinked his jade eyes, and noticed he was being stared at, and for some reason he earned a hostile glare from Kiku.

"Er, no." Arthur took a quick glance at Francis, who was shamelessly flirting with the Spaniard _and_ the island beside him. He felt a pang of jealousy. "...bloody hell?"

After the meeting, Arthur held back a bit to "gather his thoughts." No, really, he didn't want to wait for Francis. Go on, Matthew, he'll catch up later, he swears. He remained seated and stared across the table.

Go home, Antonio.

"I'll catch up with you later, _cheri_." Francis told the Spaniard, kissing both of his cheeks.

The other man just laughed and walked off waving, leaving the two enemies-now-allies along in the large conference hall. And both men were very well aware of the situation. Arthur tried busying himself with papers, shoving them in his briefcase, while a Cheshire Cat-like grin spread wide on Francis' face.

"_Bonjour, Angleterre~_ Wasting you evening with work again?"

"Bugger off, frog." Arthur waved his hand, trying to sound bored. He knew Francis would stay to torture him, he always did. But that's, odd enough, what Arthur really wanted.

Maybe Alfred was right, you really are off your rocker.

"Aw, _cheri_, do you really mean that?"

"I said 'bugger off,' did I not?"

"Ah, well, if you feel such."

He was really leaving? That was not Arthur's plan. Well, he didn't really have a plan, but if he did, it definitely would not go like that. Not like that at all. Really, if this non-planned plan was in full action, he would probably be wondering how his clothes flew to the other side of the table, and if Francis always carried spare handcuffs around with him.

"Wait!"

Oh bullocks! Really Arthur, after all those years of having Peter mind his tongue, look at you. I mean really, just let him go. Maybe he didn't hear you yell super loud across the room.

"_Oui_?"

Of course.

"Er... That's it?" he asked. "You have nothing better to say to me? Why, I'm disappointed in you, surrendering so easily."

S'not like he doesn't with anything else...

"As you said, _mon ami~_ 'Bugger off.'" He started walking again.

"Ugh, Francis!"

Although he was certain he would never ever _ever_ consider Francis Bonnefoy an option, Arthur Kirkland indeed fell.

"What now, _Angleterre_? I'm a very busy man you know." He spoke with a cheeky grin.

"C'mere for a moment."

"...You're not going to hit me, are you?"

"I will if you don't hurry your arse up, bloody twat!"

Francis chuckled, and strolled back over. "_Oui_?"

Arthur grabbed the Frenchman's shoulders and pinned him down against the table, kissing him roughly. Wide, blue eyes stared up at him, but there never came any resistance. The Brit straddled himself on the older man's lap, and bit his bottom lip.

So, no handcuffs were involved, but Arthur enjoyed it all the same.


End file.
